“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers…
“This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. . . . And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun…
“This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. . . . And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun…
“If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…” Thomas Merton, March 18, 1958
**************
Brea
Congregational United Church of Christ
February
18, 2018
Touching Wonder
Mark 9:2 Six days later, Jesus
took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart,
by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3 and his clothes
became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4 And there appeared to them Elijah
with Moses, who were talking with Jesus.
5 Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here;
let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for
Elijah.” 6 He did not know what
to say, for they were terrified. 7
Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is
my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8
Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only
Jesus.
9 As they were coming down the
mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after
the Son of Man had risen from the dead. 10
So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the
dead could mean.
“In
Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping
district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all
these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to
one another even though we were total strangers…
“This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. . . . And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun…
“This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. . . . And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun…
“If
only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war,
no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…” Thomas Merton, March 18, 1958.[1]
How should we label experiences like this when they happen in our time? How can we put them into our modern categories of thought?
Transcendent.
Mystical. Spiritual. Divine.
Metaphysical.
Metaphorical. Psychological. Delusional.
One
thing is clear. Most old-line Protestant churches have gone to great lengths to
avoid dealing with “those kinds of experiences,” and we are paying a price for
it.
Another
story.
Once
upon a time, on a radiant hilltop, a man had an experience of wonder. An experience he labeled divine. So he built
a shrine, and in that shrine he did his best to put words to that experience.
Words could not do it justice, but others gathered just to experience a little
of that reflected glory, to be inspired and enlivened. After many years, though, the man grew old
and frail, and he had to pass on the telling of wonder to others.
Those
others were kind and generous, and had in fact been running the shrine for
years already. But they only knew
reflected glory. They were not very
inspiring. They had a familiar ritual
around the telling of the story of wonder. Some participants felt comfort from
the ritual. Some were comforted by the
thought that the divine had been sighted at that very shrine at some time in
the past. But to some the ritual began to feel dry. Attendance fell. The
shrine-keepers got grumpy, and started making rules about attendance and shrine
upkeep, rules which were never needed before. And you can imagine how well that
went over.
Meanwhile,
a former participant from the shrine was wandering, and hoping to renew the
sense of wonder that didn’t seem to be at the shrine anymore. To her great
surprise, at a very ordinary-looking bend in the river, she had a radiant,
life-changing experience. It was clearly
an experience to be shared. So she
invited a few friends to come each week and sit at the riverbank while she told
her story of wonder. And eventually they built a shrine. Also, there was a
great tree on the plain…but that’s another shrine.
God
is still speaking. I love that slogan of
the United Church of Christ. It says that there is no whole and final truth
when it comes to our understanding of the sacred. More will be revealed. We can
continue to touch wonder today, whether that experience happens in our logical
left brain, through some transformative idea, or in our creative, relational, mysterious
right brain, through some visionary or creative experience. And I don’t get to
tell you that your experience is wrong, or that you are wrong for not having
the right kind of experience. You all have some experiences of touching wonder,
affirming meaning and value, even if you prefer not even to categorize that
experience as spiritual.
These
experiences can be hard to put into words. Maybe that’s why so many of us
treasure the words of Michael’s prayers.
But these experiences are not really hard to have, if you make space for
them. What works for one person may not work for another. I hope worship works
for you in this way, at least now and then.
One
ancient Christian practice that invites the sacred is guided meditation in the
tradition of Ignatius of Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises. So let’s do it. Let’s do
a guided meditation together. If at any
time you do not want to do this, just open your eyes. Different things work for different people.
Please
close your eyes now. Get settled and comfortable in your seat. Take a deep slow breath, and release it. Now in your mind’s eye, get ready to witness
the scene of our bible reading in your imagination. I will read the scripture, and you put
yourself into the scene. Look for details. Let your imagination play the scene
like a movie. Let your senses engage. What do you see, hear, feel, smell?
Jesus took with him
Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.
And he was
transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one
on earth could bleach them.
And there appeared to
them Elijah, the greatest prophet, with Moses the lawgiver, who were talking
with Jesus.
Then Peter said to
Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three shrines, one for
you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
6 He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.
Then a deep fog enshrouded
them them, and from the fog there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved;
listen to him!”
Suddenly when they
looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
If
you are still in the scene, your time is nearly over. Perhaps you want to say one last thing, or
listen to one last thing, or get a hug.
Now
come back to the here and now.
Wiggle
your fingers and toes, and when you’re ready, open your eyes.
Now
take a minute or two to reflect, and if you like, jot some notes.
In
our Lenten journey toward Easter over these next six weeks, I invite you to
take time and make space to touch wonder, in whatever way might work for you. If
you’d like to try Ignatian-style exercises, there is a handout in the church
entry just left of the doors that you can take.
And you may touch wonder in nature, prayer, music, special people,
reading and conversation, meditations of different kinds, art and dance, and
much more.
May
the still-speaking God embrace you and guide you and inspire you on your
journey in Lent. Amen.
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